Ocean
by Imyoshi
Summary: Nightmares and night terrors remained a common occurrence that not even the bravest of Huntsmen were immune to, Team JNPR and Team RWBY were no exception. Common practice prescribed sleeping in someone else's bed when frightened awake. All good. All good. The only thing Jaune Arc couldn't fathom was why everyone always crawled into his bed?


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of RWBY.

* * *

 **Ocean**

 **By: Imyoshi**

Like all marvelous tales, it started off on a dark and stormy night.

 _Rustle_! _Rustle_! _Rustle_!

The messy shifting of his bed sheets and dipping of the mattress woke Jaune Arc up, but he remained perfectly still and waited to see what happened next. Possibly a dream, perhaps nothing, and maybe more. Tentative moments, like a creature stalking its prey, alerted him to a semblance of reluctance of stirring him in his sleep. Sadly for them, he was a light sleeper. He felt the dips, noticed the shuffles, and heard the rumpling of the sheets. It didn't matter in the end.

He remained ghostly quiet.

Not too long a body, light and feminine, softly pressed itself to his chest, remaining quiet in what she thought to be noiseless and calm. One of her arms moved slowly across his ribs, in an effort not to wake him, and rested right where his heartbeat pumped, fingers stretched over skin. Then she nuzzled her face deep into his body, buried her nose into the crevices of his ridges, and drifted off to a nightmare-free slumber.

A flash of soundless lightning got snuffed out by the pouring storm, but it granted him to the opportunity to observe who had slithered into his bed.

While he preferred to say this wakeup call was unusual, it sadly wasn't. Before Beacon, before dreams of grandeur, his younger and impressionable sisters had a habit of sneaking into his bed when woken up by a terrible nightmare, storm, or whatever it was that scared them. Well, sneaking might be stretching the word. No one moved like a ninja when shaking like a leaf. Little sisters especially fit those criteria, but never once did he call them out on it and allowed them to drift happily. However, this was vastly different.

Last time he checked, Ruby Rose was not his little sister. She might've been young enough to fall within that spectrum, but still wasn't blood-related. Her mixture of black wavy hair and red dripped bangs was a far outcry to the sun-kissed mop of unkemptness related to the Arc family, yet here she was, burrowing in his bedsheets like an adorable caterpillar, looking for a warm place to hunker down for the night.

A flash of faraway lightning brightened up the room, and he bore witness to the way she sheltered herself close to him, wrapped tightly in a cocoon-like shape. Once her breathing relaxed and the nervous tension of her body faded, he had the rare chance to notice the little things about this rosebud. Her scent smelled like cinnamon and strawberries. Against his frame, she appeared so tiny and helpless, at least to the untrained eye. Every once in a while she made these cute sounds in her sleep. They reminded him of the yelps she made during combat.

While he had little issue with her stealing his heat, the question remained to why she was here?

A flash of thunder echoed from outside the window, this time thunderous and loud, jolting her to snuggle deeper in her sleep and he smiled gently at the slumbering girl. Ah. Some things never changed. All that power and still afraid of a little lightning, huh? Why she preferred him over her impressive sister threw him in a loop, but he never turned down a friend in need and carefully, in an effort not to wake her, lazed an arm around her midriff and fell back into dreamland.

By the time he woke up the next morning, Ruby was long gone, and Nora teased him to no end about a mysterious print of strawberry-flavored lip bomb on his cheek.

...

 _Rumble_! _Rumble_! _Rumble_!

Jaune jolted awake, eyes blinking in the darkness as his bed shifted in the middle of the night. Creaks and blanket pulling reached his ears. A body then dug themselves close to his body, sighing loudly into the night.

Again?

Wait? No. Not again. Far more hair covered his shoulder this time. Not to mention this person made little effort in being discrete and wrapped her body around his arm in a powerful vice grip, revealing a fuller chest and curvier form with legs bunched up together. She immediately found her favorite spot, between his body and his arm, and settled down like she owned the place with firm arms entangling his one. Subtly? Ha! Not for this intruder.

As of right now, his left arm—left portion of his body even—belonged to Yang Xiao Long for the night.

This thought forced him to blink once. Twice. Thrice.

Yang, by the far the most vocal of Team RWBY, acted coy and zipped her lips shut, silent in the dead of night. Her fingers scratched the sides of his arm, digging playfully into his muscles with a softness that rivaled a cloud. Heat radiated off her like the sun, pouring red over his cheeks from the way she had his arm hugged to her abdomen and stomach.

Each trace of her fingers was slow, like the idea of his arm existing haunted her. Actually, with the way she gripped onto him, it seemed like she didn't want to take the chance of him escaping, as far-fetched and utterly ridiculous as that sounded. Eventually, she dozed off, somehow applying more pressure in her sleep with a grumble fit for her. Good thing he hadn't a blanket. She shared more than enough heat for both of them.

Jaune sighed into the air.

So close to her, in the cover of darkness, he couldn't help but breathe into her messy locks, instantly smelling the scent of vanilla and embers. For such tone arms and stomach, her skin was surprisingly creamy. Not to say she wasn't breathtaking, he was a hot-blooded male, after all, but it still amazed him. So for her to snuggle up to him, well, he preferred not to imagine whatever nightmare justified Yang crawling into his bed this night, he didn't care and carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Warmth quickly captured him, and he snoozed away.

By the time he woke up the next morning, the dragoness was gone, but in its place left a burning mark on his other cheek, this time more noticeable than a dab of lip bomb. Nora never once stopped teasing him about it until breakfast, and that was because Yang threw a pie to her face.

The food fight earned them a Saturday detention.

...

 _Rustle_! _Rustle_! _Rustle_!

Jaune Arc wearily opened his eyes, not at all shocked at the shifting going on his bed for the third time. He said nothing, didn't move a muscle and pretended the hard shove to push him to his side didn't wake him up from dreamland. Who this was this time unquestionably wasn't Yang or Ruby. Ruby walked eggshells. Yang clutched. This person did neither and unexpectedly wiggled her small frame to his back and hugged him from behind with both her arms wrapped tightly around his torso, or at least tried to.

Her arms couldn't quite snake themselves entirely around his larger frame, and he stifled a chuckle from the harsh, but quiet _humph_. The only reason Jaune Arc figured out who used his body as a little spoon was because only one person had such delicate arms and smelled of winter's breeze. He should know, he once attempted courting her.

Attempting being the keyword.

Of all people, Weiss Schnee grabbed him from behind and clutched him for dear life, trying all her might to be the big spoon. She seemingly wanted to control this, whatever it was and made herself out bigger. Surely not what was happening, but he dared not to move a muscle and waited for the heiress to tire herself out.

Then her arms began to wander.

Not the type of wander where fingers trailed over the ends of his muscles, exploring in a risque manner, but like when one tried to find a stuffed teddy bear in the middle of the night. Her fingers gnawed away, hoping to find the object of affection she desperately wanted. He ultimately figured out she sought one of his arms, and discreetly maneuvered his toward her impatient fingers. The spoiled sleeper wasted no time and snatched his wrist, entrapping his arm, and entire body, in a squeezing hold.

Seconds later her tensed body relaxed and snoozed away to dream a palooza where polar bears danced and hot chocolate fell from the sky every Friday. He hardly moved, calmly breathing as he found having Weiss pressed up against his back a strange sensation. The more moments that trickled on by, the more he learned about the Dust Heiress, like the pleasant discovering of her being a soft snorer.

Best of all she talked in her sleep.

Well, more like mumbled gibberish, but it beat Ruby in the cute department. Of course, this was all hush-hush. She'd deny it anyway. Besides, being the little spoon in this situation beat anything remotely weird, but Weiss wanted to control this moment for whatever odd reason, so he sucked it up and closed his eyes. Sleep came instantly.

Routine followed the next morning. Weiss was absent, leaving no trace but a bluish smudge of lipstick near the corner of his lip. Nora instantly teased him, asking whether he sucked at putting on lipstick, or did it purposely to make her laugh. He only mumbled revenge and headed for the bathroom.

Jaune Arc did not wear lipstick.

...

 _Scruffle_! _Scruffle_! _Scruffle_!

At this point, he got used to it.

Jaune Arc almost praised this person. They nearly managed to get into his bed without disturbing his rest, but that had flown out the window once he felt her entire body slam on his. He only recognized this person because the overpowering smell of tuna invaded his senses. Only one person loved the chicken of the sea to such an extreme. Only one person even dared eat the fish when so many better alternatives existed at Beacon Academy.

Blake Belladonna.

For the first time since this weird habit started, he remained at a loss for excuses. Of all people, of all the members of Team RWBY, he never thought Blake as one to have nightmares. Ruby's reason was moderately simple to being afraid. Yang needed for someone to hold. Weiss wanted control. Blake, however, he hadn't a single clue.

Blake changed up the routine. She didn't seize his arm, snore or hide within the space of his body but sprawled her stomach over his with her head on one side of his body, and legs on the other. It was, by contrast, a perplexing and perpendicular situation. For such a personal space type of girl, that ideology flew out the window once she stretched her legs and rolled on his stomach like some corrupted indoor cat.

When he attempted to move, perhaps find a reason for all this absurd nonsense, she moved her feet and arms closer in a fetal position, putting more weight on his stomach with her hair slouched across his torso and legs bunched on his belly. If he even lifted a finger the lazy girl grumbled and fumbled, not giving any chance to escape, nestling closer until she resembled a ball.

Finally, he gave in and allowed Blake to use him as her personal pillow. Not much else to say other—was that purring? Did Blake Belladonna purr?

Listening silently, he indeed detected purring and knew the sound came from the smut-loving girl. Must be a snore? Had to be! Who hummed while awake? Who purred while resting? Each demanded some understanding of skepticism, but he leaned toward napping between the two. So with the story of the legendary purring put to a close, he yawned quietly and decided to follow Blake's example and fall into a catnap of his own.

Unlike the other three members of the nightmare-induced Team RWBY, she precisely knew what she wanted. No wandering hands or hugging of any kind. Blake rolled into a ball and claimed her spot on his stomach, content. At the same time, if he so moved a muscle, moaning and groaning of discontentment reached his ears, and he would find himself dealing with an uneasy and fussy Blake.

Upon waking up this time, Blake mysterious ninja-vanished before anyone woke up. Nora pinched her nose and stubbornly shoved her Fearless Leader into the bathroom. Something about smelling like the ocean.

Probably one of his better mornings.

...

 _Creak_! _Creak_! _Creak_!

All things considered, he was both shocked and not that Nora Valkyrie crept into his bed when a nightmare hit her, and not Ren's. Although, the term crept loosely fit into the context of things. He only knew it was her hiding in his sheets because alone she slouched her figure haphazardly over the bed. By slouch, he meant she had one leg fumbled across his and a fist to his face, snoring up a storm while the base of her palm remained trapped underneath her back.

Jaune sighed, shrugged, and closed his eyes for some well-earned sleep, or at least he attempted to. She slept similar to a sloth as in sleeping came second-nature to her, but she moved like a bolt of lightning. Fast. Sudden. Unexpected. One second her hand slapped his face, the other time her smelly foot was pressed up against her neck. If he waited just long enough, her messy, carrot-colored hair brushed against his mouth, tasting just as sugary as he predicted.

Maybe if he powered on through, the Sandman might cut him some slack and whoosh him away to his everchanging castle on the proverbial sand? Counting sheep couldn't hurt either? Mayhap the Sandman owned sheep? Good old sheep! Yes. Counting certainly sounded like a perfect strategy.

An hour into this cycle, the Arc sighed and forgoed counting useless sheep. Curse the Sandman! Nothing helped when she tossed and turned in her sleep. Nora simply kept moving? Why did she need to be steadily migrating? What? What possible reason warranted such a reaction? Why couldn't she be happy in one spot?

Frustrated, the straw that broke his back was when she rested her chin on his head with a trail of drool dripping down upon his locks. Once she darted away, turning to rest on his palm, he bounded forward and encircled one arm securely around her midriff, using the other to lock her in place. Like voodoo magic, she instantly calmed down, and the snoring dropped in volume.

Jaune blinked at the turn of events. Stability seemed to soothe the gentle soul. Any and all effort to toss and turn vanished. Poofed! Gone! In its place slept a calm girl, no longer interested in Point A or Point B. She finally found a place to bunker down and remain still.

Sighing, the Arc rested his chin on top of her head, instantly smelling the aroma of buttery pancakes and slippery syrup. Her hands gripped his, not yielding an inch, smooth to the touch. In the end, he barely cared and fell into a fit of dreamless slumber.

Nora didn't dare peep a sound that morning. Things only took a one-eighty when she offered him the first bite of her pancakes that breakfast. For the first time since knowing her, he saw the hidden, sad girl hiding in those turquoise depths, who had no place to call her home and politely declined, shoving the plate back into her hands with a resolve he hadn't known he possessed.

All he wanted for her was to eat her fill and have enough food to be happy.

...

 _Squeak_! _Squeak_! _Squeak_!

Eyes opened, a body slipped right next to his, throwing all facade in the fire while being perfectly calm once their head hit the pillow. A fair distance existed between the two, an invisible border practically endured with a blanket covering them chest-high. The Arc didn't need to feel this person's body or catch a quick whiff of their aroma, their character and simplistic manner spoke louder than any ruffling of the sheets. Sadly, nothing erased the awkward tension in the room.

"Et tu, Ren?"

Only Lie Ren deserved any verbal lashing. Only Lie Ren had Jaune Arc breaking character to turn his head to his sleeping buddy for the night. Pink eyes glowed in the darkness of the room, staring right back in nonchalant in presumably the most non-nonchalant moment in either of the males' lives.

"You're surprisingly the first person I thought of when I awoke in the middle of a nightmare."

That explained nothing and everything all at once.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

Thank Monty Oum for small mercies.

Sleep came easy once the bro-talk past. The next morning came the hard part. Somehow the two amigos stirred awake and found themselves hugging, bare-chested and made Ruby seem slow from how fast they separated. Nora acted particularly harsh that morning, slamming doors in Jaune face and scribbling on his sword when she thought he wasn't looking in magic marker. He honestly didn't blame her.

Lie Ren had a well-sculpted body.

...

 _Rolling_! _Rolling_! _Rolling_!

Was it weird he expected this? The someone sneaking into his bed after having a nightmare part? So much so that he remained awake at night, an hour at least, before falling asleep? Because for once, he heard the person scramble in their bed prior, gasp upon waking up from whatever blood-curling nightmare gripped their soul and felt the tension in their body from a distance. Even so, Jaune Arc didn't move a muscle when his partner slipped out of her bed and over to his.

She hesitated at the edge of his cot, probably the not the first to do so with her silhouette shivering in the darkness. Pressure radiated from her core. Sadness and worry fueled that pressure until she couldn't mentally take it anymore and fumbled into his sheets. During the whole process, he breathed deeply, feigning sleep in favor to save her from embarrassment, more so since Pyrrha was the four-time champion.

The Invincible Girl.

Sheets got pulled. A body moved next to his. Satisfactory sighing followed after. Sleep. Everything went without a hitch, that was until a terrible secret brewed to life as his partner kept pulling the sheets in her state of rest.

Pyrrha Nikos, his partner-in-crime, the bread to his butter, was the worse-of-the-worse when it came to sharing a bed.

This four-time champion was a blanket hogger.

She stole them all for herself, leaving none for his cold feet, naked chest, or goosebump filled arms but had the boldness to still use him as a personal heater because supposedly those high-thread counted sheets weren't enough.

The blanket burrito partner shoved her fortress close but remained separated between the layers of sheets. Somehow she still trembled in the chilly night air, plagued by the aftereffect of those nightmares. It made him want to reach out and embrace her, but how could he? This cocoon she built to divide them was near invincible to break. A podium meant to keep them apart. Still, she shivered, shook, almost groaned tears from these nightmares tormenting her.

Damn cocoon.

Huffing, he patiently waited until she drifted off further into dreamland, planned his next move accordingly, and paced himself. When she gasped, stuck in her terror dreams, he quickly pulled upon the blanket and buried himself into the small opening of the cocoon. She immediately grabbed the sheet again, entrapping him into her web of threads, but remained dumbfounded to his closer presence.

Rinse and repeat. Pyrrha stirred. He pulled. She wrapped. He inched ever so closer. Rinse and repeat.

All the hard work ultimately paid off as she moaned for a final time and he tugged the last layer separating them, hugging her close in a bundle of heat. Her head ducked into his chest, fiercely embracing the sneak hug and shaking arms wrapped desperately around his chest. Finally, for honest to Oum finally, Pyrrha settled down and those night terrors turned to ash like all the Grimm she had slain.

He felt her slowly relax in his hold, turning to mush. A smile crept on her lips, kissing the skin of a heated leader. Between all the bodies that have hugged him, hers embraced the utmost touch. Her slender fingers dug into his skin. Legs brushed together. It didn't help that this blanket cocoon roasted them like walnuts on an open fire, but shifting even the slightest earned a passionate moan he stood no possibility of resisting.

During some point of the night, sleep claimed him.

 _Flash_!

Jaune groaned from his rest, knowing their little cocoon practically made it impossible to escape before Nora flashed her Scroll. The blazing red on Pyrrha's cheeks only made the scene all the worse with her spluttering out denials.

Pyrrha refused to make eye contact with him for the rest of the week.

...

Jaune Arc might not be the smartest person, or the wisest, or most powerful, but what he lacked in strength and skill, he more than made up for it in heart and bravery. He never had nightmares. He had doubts. Worries. Paranoia even, but never nightmares. Who had time for that silly nonsense when others needed a hero to fend off the monsters lurking underneath their beds?

Someone had to be the Fearless Leader.

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 **Author Notes:** A random plot bunny that came to me a few nights ago. Inspiration hit like a freight train so I just had to write it down.


End file.
